


Tiger Stripes: Kinktober Special 008

by Silvandar



Series: Tiger Stripes - OtaYuri post canon kink!fic [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anger, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Boundaries, Communication, Daddy Kink, Dom Otabek Altin, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fetish, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kink, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Knifeplay, Love, M/M, Mild Blood, No Sex, Painplay, Self-Harm, Sub Yuri Plisetsky, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:46:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvandar/pseuds/Silvandar
Summary: Submission for Kinktober 2018. Sometimes, things don't go down as well as Yurio had hoped...NO SEX.Date: Off season 2016. Yurio is 17 and above the age of consent in Russia.





	Tiger Stripes: Kinktober Special 008

**Author's Note:**

> Today's prompt was blood play. Not my bag. 
> 
> For this pairing, I felt like maybe that was a step too far. I also felt it would be the perfect way for them to draw a line. I know that's not really what Kinktober is about, but I couldn't bring myself to write anything related to blood play. I'm not condemning or kink shaming. I'm actually working on a much larger ero-guru fic which will probably include blood play, but it's not going to be ready until the end of the month, and isn't OtaYuri. 
> 
> I just... didn't want to do it today, and I needed something for the prompt. Sorry!

“ _Shit!”_

The loud curse from the kitchen made Yurio jump, and the string of Kazakh that followed brought him into the room at a run, Potya flying off his lap in a panic.

Otabek was glaring down at his hand, which was an alarming red. The knife he'd just cut himself on was on the floor, as was the zucchini he'd been chopping for their stir fry. Clicking his tongue, Yurio grabbed the first aid kit and shoved the brunette on a chair.

“How can a trained dancer be so clumsy?”

“Talent” his voice was a bit wobbly, and Yurio eyed him before taking his hand and starting to clean up the wound.

“You ok?”

“Yeah... that hurt.”

“It's not deep” Yurio assured him, “it won't need stitches. Let me sort it out for you.”

Otabek watched him curiously. “Blood doesn't freak you out?”

The blonde made a rude noise in the back of his throat, indicating that he, Yuri Plistesky, was afraid of nothing on gods earth. Especially not a bit of blood. The Kazakh wasn't so sure he could say the same, and averted his eyes as Yurio inspected his hand.

“Bathroom please” the smaller skater said, leading the way. His boyfriend looked a bit grey as he followed him. “What about you?”

“Not a fan” Otabek admitted. “Took a bad cut from a skate when I was a novice, haven't liked blood since.”

“Amazed you kept skating” Yurio forced his tone lighter, sitting the brunette on the closed toilet lid and pulling his hand into the basin to wash out the cut.

“I loved it too much by then” Otabek shook his head, glancing at the red flow in the sink and wincing.

Once he'd washed out the cut, Yurio put a clean bandage over it and then sat across Otabek's thighs, facing him and stroking his hair gently. “Breathe” he told him, holding his arm up in the air to slow the blood flow and gently peppering his face with kisses to distract him. After a few minutes of this unconventional bedside manner, the grey receded and he was pulled firmly into a kiss.

“I hate being weird around blood” Otabek admitted, shaking his head. “It pisses me off. Makes me feel pathetic.”

“Is it just your blood? Or anyone's?”

“Anyone. It makes me feel... ill.”

Yurio smiled and stood up. “I know a way to get over that” he suggested, with a smirk on his face.

  
  


“Do I dare ask why you are naked and yet have a knife?”

Yurio slipped on top of Otabek, balancing an ornate, expensive looking silver hilted knife on his chest. “A trick I learned as a kid – when you're frightened of something, make it into something fun.”

“Yura...”

“Trust me Beka.”

“If you're about to cut a hole in me, I'd really rather you didn't. Blood and sex don't mix!”

“Hah... no, I'm not going to cut you. Don't worry!”

It took far too many seconds for Otabek to put that together, and by that time, Yurio had drawn the knife lightly across his own chest.

“ _Yura!!”_

Otabek sat up, grabbing the blonde by the wrists. “What the _fuck_!” he almost screamed, eyes fixed on the shallow cut as pearls of bright red began to form.

“Relax daddy. I cleaned the knife”

“God fucking dammit Yura... what the fuck... wh...”

He was silenced by a kiss, and as Yurio pulled back he realised for the first time that the blonde was rock hard and grinding against his hips. Belatedly, he realised that he'd been hard when they'd been in the bathroom as well.

“Fuck... this gets you off... doesn't it?”

“Mmmm... it's very erotic” Yurio purred, running a finger across the cut and flicking his tongue out to taste his own blood. Otabek felt his world shift around him, nausea battling with the arousal that was inevitable upon seeing Yurio turned on.

Heated lips found his again, and this time he could taste copper. With his eyes closed, the taste wasn't actually bad, mingled with the normal taste of his lover's mouth. He groaned a little, aware that he was starting to get hard despite his boyfriend waving a knife inches from his face. “What the fuck...” he murmured again, bracing himself on his hands.

“Relax daddy.”

“Put the knife away, _please_ ” Otabek begged, and Yurio complied with a chuckle. His chest was still bleeding, and the brunette winced at the sight.

“It's just blood, daddy” the blonde purred, “and it's nearly stopped already. Nothing to be scared of.”

He was right, the flow was almost stopped. A palm slipped into Otabek's lap, a thumb working over the head of his semi hard cock.

“Daddy...”

“Mmmm...”

“Please don't be scared. It's only blood.”

Otabek looked up, his eyes narrow. “If I prove I'm not scared, will you please promise to never, ever do anything like that ever again?”

“Mmmm... I promise, daddy.”

Growling slightly, Otabek clamped down on his nausea and forced himself to lean forward, running his tongue over the shallow cut on Yurio's chest. The blonde hissed slightly, his hips moving in slow circles. Pain always turned him on, and Otabek knew it. Perhaps his beloved Kazakh hadn't realised just how much experimenting he'd done on his own over the last year. He didn't scar easily, which probably helped.

Swift strokes with his tongue cleaned the blood from the unbroken skin around the cut, and then Otabek pulled Yurio down onto the bed, sitting astride him.

“Satisfied?”

“Mmmm... that was brave of you daddy.”

“How long have you been screwing around with shit like this?”

Otabek's tone wasn't even remotely playful, and Yurio raised an eyebrow, worry beginning to nag at him. “A while... since we started playing with the flogger.”

His lover cursed quietly. “You've been cutting yourself?”

Green eyes dropped, the unmistakable tone of concern and annoyance cutting through Yurio's arousal completely. “Yes” he said, quietly.

“Not any more” Otabek leaned down, touching their noses together and holding Yurio's jaw firmly. He'd never exerted dominance over the blonde outside of sex, and didn't particularly want to change that dynamic. This time though, he was making an exception.

“Listen to me very carefully” his voice was cold, angry, and Yurio felt tears rising unbidden. Otabek hadn't spoken to him like that in years, and he knew there was no room for playing. “When you decide you want to try something new that is dangerous, or could hurt you, you _talk to me first._ Do you understand?”

“Y-yes...”

“Say 'yes, Otabek'”

Yurio whined, knowing he'd stepped over an unwritten line. Otabek _never_ made him use his name.

“Y-yes... Otabek. I promise.”

Last time Otabek had used a tone even approaching this, he'd immediately resumed cuddles and kisses, taking the sting out of his words. This time, he got off the bed and threw Yurio's jeans at him.

“I'm going to finish dinner. Dress that wound, and come out when you're ready” he snapped, then walked out and slammed the door.

Yurio did as he was told, crying silently. He threw the knife in the bin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 007 prompt was Kinbaku, so I decided to draw it as it didn't fit with Tiger Stripes and I couldn't be arsed with starting a Victuuri fic just for that. If you'd like to see it, search username Silvandar on tumblr :)


End file.
